


He had Moments

by scorpius_cinnamon_roll



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: BPD, Bullying, Childhood, Depression, Explanations, Fluff and Angst, Gay Male Character, I have a lot of feels about the Murphy family, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Sibling Bonding, Sickfic, Young Connor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-21 19:19:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11950914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpius_cinnamon_roll/pseuds/scorpius_cinnamon_roll
Summary: There's that old saying that nobody is born evil. But people forget that nobody is born sad either. So what exactly happened to Connor that turned him into the sad, angry boy he was when he died?(A series of one shots based on the lyrics of the cut song 'A little bit of light' from the musical Dear Evan Hansen. Predominately told from the perspective of his family, this story explores the life and childhood of Connor Murphy.)





	1. "fighting a war, Where no one was the winner"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for arguments and mentions of therapy.

_"fighting a war, Where no one was the winner" ___

____

Screaming matches were a common occurrence in Cynthia Murphy's household, particularly between her husband Larry and her fourteen year old son Connor. The pair would go to battle so often that it had become difficult to tell when and where one argument ended and another begun. She had no idea why or how their quarrel that afternoon had begun, because they'd already been in the midst of it when she opened the front door. 

She had decided to take Zoe to her Mother's house so that the youngest Murphy could spend time with her Grandmother, who seemed to be nearing the end of her life at seventy-eight years old. Originally she had hoped to take Connor too but, that idea had been quickly dismissed when he slammed the door in her face that morning at the mere suggestion.

Upon arriving home she had quickly ushered Zoe upstairs, before taking a deep breath and braving to enter the battle zone that was her living room. She stood in the doorway to the large room and coughed nervously, hoping to get at least one of the male's attention. She was unsuccessful. Connor was currently pulling books of the shelves and chucking them in the general direction of her husband. Fortunately, Connor had never been the sports star Larry had hoped he would be, and so none of the books had actually hit his father. Larry meanwhile was red in the face and roaring something about a report card at the fourteen year old.

"You're failing Math and Science Connor! This is unacceptable!" he shouted angrily.

Instead of replying with actual words, Connor made some sort of animalistic sound and launched a first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice, which Cynthia was fairly sure nobody in the house apart from Connor himself had actually read, across the room. The book connected with a lamp that Larry had purchased for some anniversary, and it fell to the floor, shattering instantly. 

The room fell silent. Larry was breathing heavily and glaring at Connor, who was now standing completely still and staring blankly at the spot on the table where the lamp had previously sat. 

Cynthia bit her lip, she waited for a few minutes for someone to break the silence, but it quickly became apparent that nobody else in the room had any plans to do so. She tried coughing nervously. Larry shifted his attention towards her, but Connor stayed rooted to his spot by the bookcase and Cynthia wasn't sure he'd even registered the sound.

"Connor sweetheart-" she began, before being interrupted by Larry.

"Cynthia don't!" her husband snapped.

She shot her husband a pleading look, begging him silently not to let his anger get the best of him. 

A few months ago they had attempted to talk with a therapist about better ways to handle Connor when he was in a fit of rage. Instead of screaming back, she had suggested leaving him alone in a room, or staying calm and talking him down. She had also talked to them about ways to punish Connor without him feeling isolated or triggering more anger, but that still ensured he knew that sometimes his behaviour was unacceptable. Cynthia had actually quite liked that therapist, but Larry had grumbled that she was too pricy and stated that Connor needed firmness and strict rules to get better. When she tried asking Connor whether or not he liked Dr Williams, he had simply shrugged and mumbled something about not being bothered. Part of her wanted to push him for a proper answer because she had the feeling that Connor might actully be able to connect with a professional this time around, but as usual she had dropped it and allowed him to go to his room.

Larry's brutal words pulled her from her thoughts and back to the matter at hand.

"Go to your room Connor, this behaviour will not be tolerated! You're grounded for a month!" he growled.

Part of Cynthia expected Connor to argue back, however the lanky teen merely shrugged and walked away quietly. Cynthia didn't miss the way he sniffled as he walked past her, or the way his eyes glistened with what she suspected were tears.

Once Connor was out of ear shot, Larry turned to her and exhaled. 

All the anger seemed to have drained out of him and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a warm hug.

"I think we won that one," he said quietly in her ear and she could hear the sense of victory in his voice. He clearly believed that his toughness had worked. However, he didn't see the lost look on her child's face after he had broken the lamp, he didn't bat an eyelid when Connor refused to come downstairs for dinner that evening and he was already snoring when she listened to her son cry himself to sleep that night.

'I don't think we did,' she thought to herself when Connor's muffled sobs had finally subsided. Because how could anyone 'win' a war when the one you were fighting was your child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't really know how many of these there will be, but I certainly have quite a few planned out. I'm essentially writing them to get all my feelings about the Murphy's out, particularly Cynthia because I feel like she is underepresented in the fandom. Also I want to try and show a side to Larry that makes him easier to empathise with and shows he is trying to do what he believes is best for Connor in the long run, even if he's wrong. Anyway thank you so much for reading this first chapter, I really hope you enjoyed it!


	2. "The missing pills from the medicine cabinet"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for attempted suicide and suicidal thoughts being vocalised.

_"The missing pills from the medicine cabinet  
The missing kid found passed out in the park" ___

__Connor had been a premature baby, the doctors had said it was unlikely he would survive at all. Cynthia still remembered how tiny he had looked in the incubater._ _

__All through her pregnancy she had longed for the moment that other mothers talked about. That moment when she would first be able to hold her little baby in her arms, she planned out how she would hold him gently but with just enough support for his head. She imagined how the embrace of her arms would be enough to shelter him from all that was bad in the world but, the moment he was born he was whisked away by a nurse to be put on a breathing support machine. She never got that moment she had longed seven moths for._ _

__She envied the other mothers on the ward who didn't have to watch their children fight for their tiny little lives. During her extended stay at the hospital she saw so many babies pass away in their mother's arms, but not her little Connor, even back then he was stubborn. The day he was finally able to breathe without assistance was the happiest of her life. And she left the hospital blissfully unaware that she would be back there fifteen years later watching, helpless, once again as doctors fought to keep her son alive._ _

___(Fifteen years later) ____ _

____She remembered it had been a long morning, Connor had been complaining of a headache and although he did so often, a part of her had wondered whether perhaps that morning he had been telling her the truth. After all he did look exhausted. Larry on the other hand seemed to have no doubts, Connor was going to school and that was that._ _ _ _

____She was in the supermarket when she got a call from Connor's school later that day, she answered it with an experienced air of weariness, praying that whatever he'd done this time didn't warrant an exclusion. But instead the voice at the other end informed her that her son hadn't arrived at school. She quickly texted Zoe to ask if her daughter knew where her brother was, but the fouteen year old had no idea. She ignored the part of Zoe's text asking about whether she could pick her up from Jazz band and sped home._ _ _ _

____It wouldn't be the first time Connor had skipped school and then headed home when he knew his parents would be out, she thought to herself as she pulled up in the driveway. In fact, by the time she had walked through the front door and made herself a cup of coffee, she was convinced that Connor must be upstairs in his room, blasting music through his headphones. As she climbed the stairs she tried to decide whether or not she would share the fact Connor had bunked with her husband, perhaps Connor would want to talk to her if she promised not to tell Larry. With a new wave of optimism that perhaps today would be the day she would get through to him, she knocked on her son's door._ _ _ _

____That optimism had long faded hours later when she was sat in the emergency room waiting to hear if her son was still alive._ _ _ _

____After discovering his empty room, she had checked the bathroom, only to find the medicine cabinet open and her sleeping pills missing._ _ _ _

____The first thing she had done was phone her husband at his work._ _ _ _

____"Cynthia I'm about to go into a meeting, I can't-" Larry started warily._ _ _ _

____"It's C-Connor," she sobbed hysterically._ _ _ _

____Larry had always been better in emergencies than Cynthia, despite his short temper. He managed to calm his wife down enough to work out what exactly had happened. Once she'd explained, he phoned the police and left work to search for his son himself. He begged Cynthia to try and stay calm and not do anything drastic._ _ _ _

____However, no words are strong enough to stop a Mother's instinct to protect when her child is in danger. Cynthia raced to her car and sped around the neighbourhood, searching desperately for her son. She ignored numerous calls from both Larry and Zoe as she scoroured the streets._ _ _ _

____In the end it was Larry who found him, fortunately Connor hadn't taken enough pills, and most of the ones he had were sitting in the pile of vomit next to his frail body. Larry phoned an ambulance that luckily arrived in record time. She arrived at the hospital in time to see them pumping her baby's stomach._ _ _ _

____What felt like years passed in that waiting room, she kept replaying the past few months in her head. Had she missed something? No, she thought. She'd seen the signs, she'd just chosen to ignore them, instead allowing Connor to spiral of control._ _ _ _

____When the Doctor finally came out and told them Connor had made it out alive, she wanted to hug him but, instead she raced into her son's room where she found Connor lying down on the bed. The sight of him attached to wires was all too reminiscent of the time she'd spent watching him fifteen years ago, her baby looking so small attached to numerous machines and wires._ _ _ _

____His eyes were closed and so she assumed he was sleeping. She gently placed a hand on his matted hair and tried to run her fingers through it._ _ _ _

____She wasn't sure whether the movement stirred him, or if he had already been awake, but his eyes flickered open._ _ _ _

____"Oh my baby," she whispered._ _ _ _

____"Mom..."_ _ _ _

____His voice was hoarse._ _ _ _

____"Don't try to talk sweetheart, they had to pump your stomach, so your throat will be pretty sore," she explained._ _ _ _

____A single tear rolled down Connor's cheek and he closed his eyes._ _ _ _

____"I wanted to die though," he half spoke, half mouthed._ _ _ _

____A tear of her own rolled down Cynthia's cheek._ _ _ _

____Later Larry would call what Connor did attention seeking, Cynthia would look up yet another clinic and Connor would google how many pills it actully took to kill yourself._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise not all of these will be angsty! I definitely have at least two fluffy ones planned and I'm sure more will follow! I'm trying to communicte what Zoe talks about at the end of the play, when she accuses Cynthia of letting Connor get away with things, which is why she ignores the signs that Connor is struggling so much. Speaking of Zoe I really want to write more about her because she's one of my favourite charcters in deh, if not my favourite! (Also this song lyric could definitely be interpreted as being about Connor's actual suicide in the play, I just thought it would be interesting look a it this way too).


	3. "My Spiderman, he stood at four foot two"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proof that I can write fluffy stuff sometimes! (But only if minimal angst is also involved...)

_The years of trick or treating  
My Spiderman, he stood at four foot two ___

__Cynthia Murphy was on a mission. She was determined! All the other Mom's at her polaties class had spent the morning raving about the elaborate homemade costumes that they had apparently prepared months in advance for Halloween. Cynthia had laughed along with them, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the store brought Spiderman and Wonder Woman costumes she had waiting for her own children in the box on top of her wardrobe._ _

__She had thought those would be enough, but having listened to the women in her group berate 'store brought' costumes all morning, she realised she must have been wrong. The only problem was Halloween was tommorow  and she wasn't exactly the best at sewing._ _

__However, she was determined to achieve her goal and nothing was going to stand in her way!_ _

__At ten o'clock that evening she was starting to have second thoughts. Her children had long been put to bed and Larry was out for the night, leaving her alone in the living room, desperately trying to put together something that could pass as a Halloween costume. The sewing machine had jammed yet again, and the princess dress she was attempting to make had no arm holes. She threw the work aside and let out a small sob._ _

__"Stupid fucking home made costumes," she muttered._ _

__As she spoke she stood up and turned around, planning to make herself a very caffeinated drink before attempting to continue._ _

__The sight that met her in the doorway was an unexpected one. Her eight year old son, in all his bed hair, bleary eyed glory._ _

__"Momma why are you crying?" he asked quietly._ _

__Cynthia hastily wiped at her eyes._ _

__"What?" she asked, as if unable to believe her son's words._ _

__"Mommy wasn't crying!" she said with false cheeriness, forcing a smile to appear on her face._ _

__Connor looked up at her, his face scrunching together in confusion. He turned and looked around the rest of the room, searching for the cause of his Mother's tears. His eyes fell upon the bright pink material on the floor next to the sofa._ _

__"What's that?" he asked, pointing at the dress._ _

__Cynthia sighed, she figured there was no harm in telling the truth at this point, although she had hoped the costumes could be an elaborate surprise._ _

__"It's a Princess dress for Zoe's Halloween costume," she explained._ _

__The look on Connor's face once again shifted into one of confusion._ _

__"Why can't she wear the Wonder Woman costume?" he asked innocently._ _

__Cynthia looked at her small son's curious face and was suddenly overcome with emotion. She burst into tears and knelt in front of the eight year old, pulling him into a hug._ _

__"I don't know sweetheart," she sobbed._ _

__To her surprise Connor pulled away, his face now decorated with a frown._ _

__"Mommy, I know Zoe gets a new costume but I don't want one," he said firmly._ _

__"I still want to be Spiderman!"_ _

__Cynthia couldn't help but laugh at her son's determination, especially when he put his hands on his hips._ _

__She realised how silly she had been, it didn't matter what all those other stuck up mom's said, if the Spiderman costume made Connor happy, then it was better than any lousy hand stitched crap that they would produce._ _

__She let out a small laugh and Connor beamed._ _

__"Yay! Mommy's happy again!" he cheered._ _

__Cynthia was practiclly giggling now, she lifted Connor into the air, shouting about how he was her little Spiderman._ _

__She was still chuckling when she sat down on the couch, Connor wriggled around in her lap so that he was facing her._ _

__Out of the blue his facial expression morphed into a serious one._ _

__"Mom, what does fuck mean?"_ _

__Cynthia gasped, how would she explain this one to Larry._ _

__\----_ _

__When Larry got home in the early hours of the morning, he found the living room strewn with sheets of colourful material, sparkly buttons and multi-coloured thread. He also found Cynthia sleeping on the couch, with his son's lanky body sprawled out on top of her. Connor's mouth was slightly ajar and his eyes were also closed._ _

__Larry tried to walk quietly through the room and into the hallway but he must have stepped on a creaky floorboard, because the noise stirred Connor from his slumber. The small boy blinked sleepily up at Larry, who walked quickly across the room to pick his son up and take him up to bed. Connor wrapped his arms eagerly around his father's neck and rested his head on the man's shoulder._ _

__"I took care of Mommy," Connor mumbled quietly, his voice heavy from sleep._ _

__Larry smiled and patted the tired boy on the back._ _

__"That's my little man," he whispered, smiling to himself._ _

__\----_ _

__The next evening Larry and Cynthia smiled at their son in delight as he ran around the room in his spandex costume, shouting in happiness about how he had the best costume in the whole world._ _

__'That's my little Spiderman,' they thought to themselves in unison._ _

__'My little hero!'_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww kid Connor gives me the feels. I'm currently in the midst of trying to write a Zoe one shot for this story, but I can't decide whether to stage it from Cynthia's pov or Zoe's. Let me know what you think in the comments!


	4. "My sweet little boy, he was suddenly gone"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A therapy session five years after her brother's death causes Zoe to reminise about how everything first started to go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for early signs of mental illness (insomnia).

_But it seemed like I woke up one morning  
My sweet little boy, he was suddenly gone_

"-it was all so sudden, like we woke up one morning and he was a totally new person," Cynthia explained.

Zoe couldn't help but roll her eyes. It had been five years since Connor's death and her mother still believed that her brother's depression had kicked in overnight. 

She dared to shoot another glance at the clock on the wall of the family therapist's office and found that unfortunately she still had to endure another twenty minutes of the session. All she wanted was to go home and curl up in bed with her financé Alana and finally get to forget about her brother for five minutes.

The therapist coughed, interrupting her distracted thoughts about what Alana might be preparing for dinner.

"Oh sorry what was that?" she asked apologetically.

"I asked if you share your mother's opinion on Connor's mental health?"

Zoe bit her lip and glanced at Cynthia.

Her Mom had always insisted that Connor's so called 'transformation' had taken place overnight, like he was some sort of werewolf who just snapped at a full moon. But Zoe knew the truth, she remembered how Connor had slowly begun to slip away....

*Flashback*

_"Connorrrrr!" Zoe shouted, banging on the eleven year old boy's room._

_There was no answer._

_Zoe frowned, last night Connor had promised her that they could play outside today, but she'd been knocking for almost ten minutes now and he still hadn't opened his bedroom door._

_She raised her fist and was about to try knocking again when the door finally swung open to reveal a very dishevelled Connor._

_Her brother had dark purple circles under his eyes and he was still wearing his pyjamas from the night before._

_Connor looked her up and down before turning around, crossing the room and taking a seat on his bed. Zoe hurried after him in concern and sat cross legged beside him._

_"Con what's wrong?" she asked, her brother was normally so full of life but, lately he'd been pretty run down and she was really starting to worry about him._

_Instead of answering her question Connor closed his eyes, for a moment he looked so much older than eleven. The wariness about him had an age to it that scared Zoe more than anything she'd ever seen before._

_She sniffled._

_"Connor please," she begged, not quite knowing what exactly she was asking for, she just knew she wanted Connor to smile again._

_Connor opened his eyes slowly, but instead of turning to face Zoe he just stared at the wall._

_"I don't want to play today, sorry Zo," he said quietly._

_Zoe just shrugged._

_"That's okay we could watch TV instead?" she suggested._

_Connor gave her a small smile and stood up slowly._

_An hour later Connor and Zoe were curled up on the couch in front of the TV. An old episode of Friends was playing on the large screen and Zoe had been laughing non stop at the comedy. Occasionally Connor would also give a small chuckle, but he wasn't laughing nearly as much as he usually would._

_Zoe had decided that Connor was probably sick or something because he looked exhausted in the same way he had a month ago when he came down with the flu._

_She hoped her mom would be home soon because she didn't know what she would do if Connor started puking or something._

_As if by magic she heard the front door swing open and her mother's voice filled the house._

_"Connor? Zoe?"_

_"We're in the living room mom!" Zoe called back._

_Cynthia poked her head around the living room door._

_"You kids okay?" she asked._

_Zoe shook her head and Cynthia immediately hurried over to her._

_"What's wrong?" she asked in panic._

_"I think Connor might be sick again," Zoe explained, turning to look at her brother, who's head was flopped back against the pillows._

_Cynthia sat on the side of the couch closest to her son and ran her fingers through his sweaty hair._

_"What's up honey? Do you feel sick?"_

_Connor shook his head._

_"Mm just tired," he mumbled._

_Cynthia frowned and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead, feeling for a temperature._

_"You don't feel warm," she said softly._

_Connor ran a hand down his face and closed this eyes._

_"I just didn't get much sleep last night," he sighed._

_Zoe watched as the frown on her Mother's face deepened._

_"You've barely slept at all lately huh?" Cynthia said, her voice itching with concern._

_Connor shook his head and pulled the blanket that was wrapped around him closer to his body._

_Zoe rubbed circles into her brother's back while her mom went to get Connor a drink._

_She hoped Connor would be back to his usual lively self soon, it had only been one morning and she already missed her happy older brother._

*End of flashback*

That was when the sleepless nights had begun and with them came poor eating habits, mood swings and temper tantrums. She watched as her brother stopped wanting to go to school, became overly sensitive to criticism and started to pull further and further away from her.

A part of her wanted to yell at her mom, to scream about how she was so very wrong. Connor hadn't just turned into a sad little boy overnight, there had been signs, warnings that something was horribly wrong.

But instead she just nodded.

"Yeah that sounds about right," she muttered, glancing at the clock once again, praying, not for the first time in her life, that time would move just a little faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ZOE ZOE ZOE!! I just love Zoe and I had so much fun writing from her perspective. Originally I had planned for this chapter to focus more on how her relationship with Connor changed over the years but I got caught up in the flashback. I'll definitely write more from her POV though if people would be interested in that. Also I couldn't help but stick some Galaxy Girls in there ;) 
> 
> Also I wanted to mention that I write Connor as someone who suffers from BPD, which I believe he had based on the musical. If anyone has any other ideas about him I'd love it if you could let me know in the comments.


	5. "All those demons that he wouldn’t let up"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor's first night home after being hospitalised for a suicide attempt is an eventful one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In regards to a timeline this one shot takes place after the one where Connor overdosed.  
> Trigger warnings for sibling abuse, mentions of drink driving, references to self harm and eating disorders, depression and rage. (Also some bad parenting because Larry is there)

_All those demons that he wouldn’t let up, that kept dragging him through the dark_

Cynthia stared at her son, was it her imagination or did he look thinner, perhaps it was just an illusion caused by the oversized hoodie he had wrapped himself in. She ignored the way he kept fiddling with his long sleeves. The doctors had told her about the scars they'd found on his arms. 'Self-inflicted' they'd called them. The bags under Connor's eyes looked heavier than she'd ever seen them, but then again nobody slept well in hospitals, did they?

Connor was currently picking at the meal in front of him, barely lifting his fork, let alone putting it in his mouth.

"Come on now Connor darling the doctors said you have to eat," Cynthia half spoke, half begged the sixteen year old.

Connor made no movement, said nothing, to give any inclination that he'd heard her.

Larry let out a deep sigh.

"Connor son," he started, his voice firm but not completely devoid of sympathy. 

Cynthia knew this couldn't go well.

"A growing boy needs his strength, stop picking at your food and eat it like a man!" 

Cynthia knew this was her husband's way of trying to encourage Connor, but unfortunately it was never going to work, if only Larry could understand that, maybe they could try working as a team.

Connor was glaring at Larry now.

"I'm not hungry," he said through gritted teeth.

"That's okay honey-" Cynthia said hurriedly, desperately trying to diffuse the tension.

"What's the matter, watching your figure?" Larry snapped.

Connor growled.

"Fuck you!" he shouted, before standing up and flinging his plate at a wall.

Zoe flinched and let out a whimper.

Connor spun around to face his sister.

"What the fuck was that?" he roared.

That was when everything exploded.

Zoe screamed and fled to her room, Connor chasing after her. Larry leapt to his feet and tore after Connor, but the sixteen year old had longer legs and more energy. 

Cynthia thanked a God she didn't really believe in that Zoe managed to shut her door in time because when Connor was in a rage there was no stopping him. It was like someone had taken control of his brain, like there was a puppet master pulling strings to make Connor scream and kick and lash out.

She watched on in horror as Larry pulled Connor away from Zoe's door that the sixteen year old was currently pounding his fists against. 

"Connor no!" Larry said firmly, as if talking to a badly behaved dog. He managed to wrestle Connor into his own room, before slamming and locking the door drom the outisde. 

Cynthia gasped.

"Larry the doctors told us locking him away in there wasn't the answer-" she began, only to be silenced by the raise of a hand.

"Cynthia he's a monster, a psycho, he can't just be stuffed full of pills, he has to learn that behaviour like this won't be tolerated!"

With that Larry stalked into his own bedroom, closing the door behind him loudly.

Zoe poked her head out into the hallway nervously and from the corner of her eye Cynthia saw her silently beg for her mother's attention, but as usual the older woman was distracted by her son.

Connor must be banging his fists against the door  because the noise was constant and the force was making the hallway wall shake.

All of a sudden it stopped, the house fell silent. Cynthia approached the door with caution. 

"It's alright Connor, nobody is angry at you," she called nervously.

She heard Zoe scoff and guessed that the fourteen year old had retreated back into her own bedroom because she heard a lock click. The lock that Zoe had begged to have on the inside of her door. A wave of sadness suddenly passed through Cynthia, most teenage girls wanted a lock on their door for privacy, or so they could make out with their boyfriends, not because they were afraid their brother would break in and attack them.

Speaking of locks the one on Connor's door was still closed, trapping him in his room like some sort of wild animal.

She wanted to slide the bolt across, to open the door and console her crying son.

Wait.

He wasn't crying.

In fact there was no noise coming from the other side of the door.

"Connor?" she called out in panic.

There was no reply.

Without thinking she slid the handle of the lock  towards her and pulled open the door.

She half expected Connor to pounce on her, but instead she felt him rush past her and watched as he fled down the stairs and into the back yard. She sprinted after him.

"Connor please wait!" she cried.

To her surprise Connor didn't carry on running after reaching the middle of the garden, instead he fell to his knees on the lawn and started to gasp for air. 

Cynthia knelt beside her son and stared at him in horror. 

Connor's eyes were closed and he was clutching at his chest as if he were in pain. He was panting and letting out small hurt noises, making him sound like a wounded animal.

"Baby what is it?" she asked, her voice filled with panic.

"The lock," Connor gasped.

"What lock-" Cynthia closed her eyes. She knew what lock Connor was referring to.

Somehow Connor seemed to get his breathing back under control and to her complete surprise he slumped against her.

"It's like being trapped," he mumbled.

Cynthia gently ran her fingers through his long hair.

"I know sweetie but it's because we don't want you to hurt yourself," she whispered.

Connor let out a small sob.

"Mom I'm trapped in here!" he cried, slamming his hands against his head.

"Connor please talk to me," Cynthia begged, pulling her son's arms away from his head, hoping that maybe this time he would talk to her.

But instead he pulled away, his eyes glassy and his expression blank.

"Fuck this," he mumbled, clamboring to his feet and walking back into the house.

Cynthia followed after him like a lost sheep and watched as grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and his Dad's car keys from the kitchen side.

She opened her mouth to tell him not to drink and drive but he silenced her with a cold glare.

She shivered as the front door slammed shut.

All she wanted was for her son to be the happy little boy he once was, to let go of his demons and finally tell her a joke again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't know if I feel more sorry for Zoe or Connor, I think maybe both equally, but in very different ways. I wanted to show a lot of things in this chapter firstly, that Connor and Zoe had a very damaged relationship, secondly that Larry was trying with Connor, it's just that he didn't really understand him and was very set in his old fashioned ways and lastly that Cynthia neglects Zoe and in the end lets Connor get away with things, hence the drink driving. I hope those things came through. 
> 
> In my opinion Larry and Cynthia have totally different styles of parenting when it comes to Connor, which is based on what Zoe says at the end of the musical just before Words Fail. 
> 
> Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you want to follow me on tumblr I'm @faistylegs (warning in advance it's mostly me rebloging photos of Mike Faist and crying about fictional characters)


	6. "Wild-eyed and weary, from all those nights"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for underage drinking

_Wild-eyed and weary, from all those nights_

Connor was thirteen the first time he came home drunk, Cynthia remembers because it was the night after the disaster of the birthday party she'd attempted to throw him. 

Her son had begged her not to make 'becoming a teenager' into a big deal, he screamed that he didn't want a party and when that didn't work he knelt in front of her and cried silently. But Cynthia just couldn't grasp the concept that he really didn't want a celebration, so instead of listening she sent him to school with a whole stack of invitations. 

She spent hours slaving over decorations and a cake but, it was all for nothing. None of the kids from Connor's class so much as made an appearance. She expected him to throw a tantrum but instead he just sat at the table and ate a piece of the cake she'd made.

She apologised profusely. 

"I am so sorry sweetheart!"

Connor just stared at the frosting on his fork and shrugged.

"It's no big deal," he replied blankly.

Despite his insistence that he 'wasn't bothered' Cynthia promised Connor that she would make it up to him.

Which is why she didn't bat an eyelid when he asked for the entire works of Jane Austen, she just handed him her credit card and he ordered them online. It was also why she gave him permission to attend an older boy's party the next evening. A decision she would later come to regret.

The next evening at 8 o'clock Connor was sat at the bottom of the stairs, his legs were clad in ripped, black skinny jeans and he was wearing a t-shirt with some band's logo on it that Cynthia had never heard off. His hair was messy and she suspected that her son had stolen some of her products and hairspray to give it the dishevelled look that it had.

Connor's phone buzzed and he checked it before standing up.

He glanced at his parents who were hovering in the hallway.

"My ride is here," he mumbled. 

"Do your friends want to come in for drink?" Cynthia smiled nervously.

Connor made a face and shook his head, before muttering something about already being late.

"Okay sweetheart, I want you home by eleven," she said, trying to keep her anxiety from showing. 

Connor gave a stiff nod before hurrying out the door and down the path. 

Cynthia and Larry exchanged a concerned look, before shuffling over to the window and watching their son clamber into a black car.

"Those other kids look much older than him Larry," Cynthia said, her voice filled with worry.

Her husband squeezed her shoulder.

"We've got the address Cyn, just be glad he has some friends" He said, trying to reassure her but he himself hadn't liked the look of some of Connor's new 'friends'.

_(A few hours later)_

Cynthia Murphy was not an idiot, she knew when she'd set Connor's curfew it was unlikely that her son would actually stick to it. The way she saw it there were two options, either he would hate the party and come home early or he would be late. Unlike most parents though this thought didn't worry or anger her too much. Connor had rarely been on time for anything in his life, even before he got bad he had been a poor time keeper.

So when the clock in the living room struck twelve she didn't panic, instead she kissed Larry on the cheek and went off to bed.

Less than an hour later she awoke to the sound of the front door slamming shut. She heard Larry call out to Connor, scolding him for being back so late. She waited with baited breath for Connor to yell back or swear at his Dad. But instead all she heard was quiet mumbling and Larry's footsteps. 

Her curiosity got the better of her, she shuffled out of bed and into the corridor. She could definitely make out voices now but, she still couldn't decipher what was being said and so she walked down the stairs hesitantly.

She found the hallway leading on to the front door empty, but there were sounds coming from the kitchen so she decided to follow them.

From her spot at the door she could see Larry filling up a glass of water and Connor sat at the kitchen table, his head resting on it's surface.

"Is everything okay in here?" she asked cautiously.

To her surprise Connor let out a small high pitched giggle and sat back up in his chair. He was practically beaming, a sight that Cynthia hadn't really seen in months

Larry glanced at Connor and then at Cynthia, despite his outwards appearance of calmness, she could see the frustration in his eyes. 

"Our son is drunk," he explained.

Cynthia gasped.

"Connor you are thirteen!" she scolded.

Again Connor laughed, before suddenly slamming a hand over his mouth and gagging.

"Connor?" Cynthia asked, her voice filled with worry as she watched her son's face go pale.

"Shit," Larry muttered, before hoisting Connor into a standing position and hurrying him over to the sink.

Just in time apparently because the moment her son's head was positioned over the sink, vomit started to pour out of his mouth. Cynthia gasped and hurried to his side, rubbing his back and whispering comforting words in his ear.

She felt Larry pull away, allowing her to take over. When Connor had finally finished throwing up he shifted away from his mother. 

"Go to bed son, we can discuss this in the morning," Larry sighed, the exhaustion evident in his voice.

Connor made to walk out the room but had to stop and grip on to the kitchen side when it became apparent that he was far too dizzy to stand without support, let alone walk.

Larry sighed once again and Cynthia watched as her husband picked their son up bridal style, fortunately Connor had a tiny frame and so could still be carried with little effort.

By the time she had made it upstairs herself, Larry had tucked Connor into bed and the thirteen year old was snoring softly.

She didn't miss the way Larry kissed the teen's forehead before exiting the room.

_(The next morning)_

Connor had the worst hangover Cynthia had ever seen, after vomiting steadily for almost two hours he had curled up in bed, his eyebrows scrunched together in pain. He clearly had a migraine because even the smallest amount of light had him hissing and diving under the covers. 

She suspected that the impact of the alcohol had been emphasized by how small Connor was and also because it was his first time drinking.

When lunch time rolled around Larry walked into Connor's room with the intention of getting the names of those who had provided the minor with alcohol.

Cynthia listened as her son refused to give up any information through door and she pracatically had to fling herself backwards to avoid being hit by the door, when Larry threw it open a few minutes later.

Her husband sent her an apologetic look.

"There goes any idea of a law suit," he growled. 

Cynthia waited for him to storm downstairs before tentatively walking into Connor's room herself.

Her son watched as she closed the door behind her and sat down next to him on the bed.

The wild look that she presumed had been caused by Larry's presence seemed to fade from his eyes and instead he was left looking tired and weary.

"No more parties or drinking for a while okay honey," she said, almost firmly.

To her surprise Connor closed his eyes and agreed with an almost violent nod, leaving her to wonder what else exactly might have happened at the party to discourage Connor so strongly from wanting to attend another one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've pretty much been updating this story once a day since I started it but, school starts next week and so I don't know how I'll be able to get my feelings about the Murphy family off my chest regularly?? Anyone else feeling kind off anxious about going back to school or is that just me? :/ 
> 
> Anyway thanks to anyone reading this or commenting, it means so much to me!


	7. "I remember picnics and Little League and Sundays at the zoo"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the Murphy's have their own memories of Connor as a child.

_I remember picnics and Little League and Sundays at the zoo_

_Zoe_

Zoe remembered picnics, she remembered how her brother would pester her to eat faster, so that they could go and play in the orchard together. After injesting sandwiches at an alarmingly fast rate, Connor would scale the trees like a monkey, jumping from branch to branch, utterly fearless of the possibility that he could fall. From high up in the trees he would call her name, crying out for him to join him.

Realistically, she knew it was unlikely that she could make it up to the top branches like Connor. Firstly, becsuse he was more experienced and secondly, because she was bigger than her brother, both in height and weight. Connor had always been kind of scrawny and was one of the shortest in his class, something he constantly complained about. Her brother loathed being so tiny, except for when it came in handy for fitting into small spaces and climbing trees.

So yes, she knew when she attempted to join her brother, who was perched on a scarily thin branch, that it was unlikely the situation would end well. Nonetheless she was encouraged by the reassuring words that her eight year old brother shouted down to her and so continued on her quest through the maze of leaves and branches.

She had almost reached him when she felt a branch give way below her, she gasped in shock as she felt herself begin to fall. She closed her eyes and prepared to hit the ground but, instead she felt fingers curl around her wrist, keeping her suspended in the air. She peeked a look at the space above her and realised that Connor had lunged forward in order to come to her rescue. She beamed at her brother as he carefully helped her on to a more stable branch.

Unfortunately, Connor must have leaned a little too far forward to assist her, because the next thing she knew he was tumbling out of the tree and hurtling towards the ground.

She screamed his name as he hit the orchard floor, her cry must have alerted her parents, who were sitting nearby, because they were on the scene in under a minute. 

Larry knelt down beside Connor who was laying pale and motionless on the ground.

"Connor buddy can you hear me?" her father asked in concern.

To Zoe's relief her brother's eyes fluttered open.

"Honey are you alright?" Cynthia cried, also crouching down next to the seven year old.

Connor frowned. 

"I know laughter is the best medicine, but I think I might need a cast to fix my foot because it really hurts," he gasped, trying to smile but Zoe didn't miss the way he winced.

All the Murphys, including Connor himself laughed nervously in relief. 

Zoe was so relieved when she realised Connor was going to be okay, she truly believed in that moment that if breaking a bone couldn't make her brother's smile falter, then nothing in the whole world ever could.

When she scrawled her name across her brother's cast that evening, she asked if he wanted her to draw a tree, seeing as he loved them so much. To her amusement Connor scrunched his face up in disgust.

"I don't ever want to see another tree in my life!" he groaned.

_Larry_

Larry remembered little league, it didn't even occur to him that Connor had only signed up because he'd had to listen to his dad go on about it for so long.

When he saw his nine year son all kitted out in his gear, he almost shed a tear. All his dreams of having a sports star for a son were suddenly becoming a reality.

Those dreams were somewhat dampened when, in his first game, Connor didn't hit a single ball that was aimed his way.

However, Larry was determined to push his son, something he would later come to realise might not have been the best decision. He would wake Connor up at the crack of dawn each morning. Pushing him and pushing him to practice. Not once did it it occur to him that maybe his son wasn't interested in baseball. He taught his son the way his own father had taught him, with hard work and dedication.

In the last game of his season Connor got a home run. Larry couldn't have been prouder. 

He waited with Cynthia and Zoe for Connor to come out the locker rooms with baited breath. 

He simply couldn't wait to congratulate his son.

He was expecting Connor to race out and greet him as soon as he was changed, but instead he had to watch all the other boys greet their parents. After ten minutes he was starting to worry, in fact he was about to go and look for Connor, when the boy in question poked his head out the locker room.

Larry watched as Connor walked towards him and couldn't help but notice that the kid was limping slightly.

"Hey little man! Great show out there!" he exclaimed, raising a hand to high five his son.

Connor ignored the gesture and instead wrapped his arms around Cynthia, before starting to cry loudly.

The smile on Larry's face fell instantly.

He crouched down besides Connor and rubbed his back gently.

"What's up bud?"

"M-my foot," Connor stuttered in between sobs.

Cynthia gasped.

"The one you broke?" she asked worriedly.

Connor gulped and nodded.

Larry and Cynthia helped their son to sit down, whilst Zoe watched fearfully. 

Larry carefully pulled Connors shoe and then slowly peeled the sock away from the skin.

He had never been more thankful for his strong stomach.

Connor's foot was swollen and covered in a nasty multi-coloured bruise.

"Oh my god Connor when did this happen?" Larry asked.

Connor was almost hyperventilating at this point.

"A-About a week ago," he managed to choke out.

Larry cursed under his breath, he tried pressing down on the skin of the foot, causing Connor to let out a small scream.

The sound attracted the attention of a blond woman standing nearby. She approached the Murphy family tentatively.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but is everything okay over here?" she asked kindly.

Larry was half tempted to tell her yes so she would leave, he didn't like looking like he didn't have control over a situation.

Fortunately Cynthia answered before him.

"Our son seems to have injured his foot," she explained.

"Oh goodness poor thing!" the woman exclaimed. "I'm actually a nurse, do you want me to take a look?"

To Larry's surprise it was Connor who nodded, he must really be in pain he thought to himself.

The woman, who introduced herself as Heidi, say down on the grass and examined the nine year old's foot. After Larry explained that only six months ago Connor had broken his foot, she suggested that the bone hadn't fully healed and so had been damaged by the weight Connor must have put on it during the game. 

Connor didn't tell her what he had told Larry about how he'd actually hurt his foot during one of his father's early morning practice sessions a week ago.

Later on at the hospital the doctor's explained that Connor's bone hadn't healed as well as they'd thought, which had resulted in it breaking again. Over the next couple of months Connor had to undergo multiple surgeries to get his bone back to normal and even then he was told never to play any major sports again and to be careful.

Despite his son's insistence that it wasn't his fault, Larry blamed himself for every surgery, every time Connor winced in pain and for when Connor couldn't go swimming all summer because his leg was in a cast again.

By the time Connor was fourteen, Larry had forgotten the guilt he had felt over his son's injury. That is until Connor unwrapped a baseball glove on Christmas morning and shot his father a painful look.

"Seriously?" he asked in disgust, before storming out the room.

_Cynthia_

Cynthia remembered Sundays at the zoo, back when neither Zoe or Connor could walk and talk.

Since the siblings were so close in age and Connor was so small, she would take them there on a double pram. People would stop and tell her how adorable her twins were and she would chuckle, before explaining that Connor was actually eighteen months older than Zoe. She loved to see people gasp and then assure her that they were still the most beautiful children they'd ever seen, causing her to beam with pride.

Whilst Zoe and Connor eventually outgrew the pram, she continued to take them on Sunday outings. Sometimes they would go to the movies, or the fair but Connor's favourite had always been the Zoo. Something about the animals had always fascinated him and he never failed to cry when it was time to go home.

She didn't mean to spoil her son but every time they went to the zoo she would buy him one of the ridicualously overpriced stuffed toys from the gift shop. By the time he was five the boy had a whole host of the cuddly toys and he liked to arrange them proudly on his bed, displaying them in different arrangements, from biggest to smallest and his favourites to his least favourites. Whilst the order never failed to change, one animal who never shifted from his spot as Connor's favourite was Eddie the turtle. Connor loved to tuck the animal's head under the toy's shell and would tell his mother that Eddie got shy and so sometimes had to hide away from the rest of the world.

Over the years Cynthia watched as her son developed a hideaway of his own and everytime she made some attempt to reach out he would crawl further and further inside himself, until eventually there was nothing left but an empty shell of the happy boy she'd taken to the zoo.

Years passed and Cynthia had forgotten all about Eddie the shy little turtle. Then one day she was helping Larry sort through boxes in the attic and something fell out of the one filled with Zoe's baby toys. It was a scruffy toy turtle but, it's head appeared to have been torn off. She hurried to the box and tipped the contents on to the floor. At the bottom was a small green head. She pressed the two pieces together, as if the force alone would be enough to conjoin them. She held them against her chest and closed her eyes, as memories of a smiling little boy, waving at animals through a glass window came flooding back to her.

It may just have looked like an old discarded toy to anyone else but, in that moment it was like finding a part of her son all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I went back to school today and the first thing my friend and I did was compare timetables to check we had frees together that we can write Scorbus fanfiction in! Also we had to write a letter to ourselves and I signed it sincerely me!


	8. "He had someone, Who was helping him to fight"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor finds some temporary light amongst the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter:  
> -Heavily implied past sexual harassment of a minor under the influence of alcohol. It's not graphic but it is frequently mentioned and was enough to traumatised said minor.  
> -Nightmates caused by past trauma  
> -Very brief mention of self harm  
> -Sensory overload
> 
> Please be careful about whether or not you read this chapter, I promise the whole rest of the story will make complete sense without it and I'll summarise what happens in the end notes.

_In those moments_  
_He had someone_  
_Who was helping him to fight_

Connor Murphy knew he wasn't exactly the first sort of person you thought of when you heard 'teachers pet'. That loud girl with all the opinions in his Chemistry class, Alicia? Amanda? She was the type of person whose notes teachers practically orgasmed over.

But Connor, he was the kid who sat at the back of classes and slept on the desk, teachers didn't give a damn about him and so the way he saw it why should he give a flying fuck about them?

He imagined that the rumour about how he had _thrown_ a printer at Mrs G in the third grade was just as popular among the staff as it was with his classmates and so he didn't exactly blame the teachers for the way they flinched everytime he walked past the computer lab. 

But, like so often in life there was one exception amongst the group of people Connor despised. In his family it was his mother, maybe even Zoe on a good day and in the host of teachers who had tried to get through to Connor, it was his ninth grade English teacher, Mr Greenwood.

\---

At fourteen years old Connor already felt like a burden wherever he went. Over the last year his relationships with his sister, dad and his few friends, had slowly fallen apart, until there was nothing left of them. Teachers and students who had previously unintentionally ignored his presence in the hallway, would now glance his way, before speeding up to deliberately avoid him. 

Most days Connor wished he could just fade into the lockers, or maybe just lie down on the floor and let himself be trampled by the herd of students who passed through it on a daily basis.

Just when he had about given up on life, when the scars on his wrist itched to be reopened and all he wanted was for his sister not to look at him like he was a monster one last time, the saviour that was Mr Greenwood arrived in his life.

The teacher was unlike any other that Connor had ever encountered, for starters he was younger than most of the old bats that Connor was forced to sit and listen to on a daily basis. Then there was the fact that he'd openly announced his sexuality in his first week at the school, when asked by a curious student what the name of his wife was. The nosy bitch had obviously seen the ring on the young teacher's finger.

"Sir what's your wife's name?" the girl asked in a whiny voice that reminded Connor of pretty much every other girl he'd ever encountered.

He'd barely been paying attention all lesson but when the teacher answered with 'Micheal' he literally fell off his chair, much to the amusement of his classmates, particularly Jared Kleinman who sat at the desk next to Connor's.

"What's the matter freak? The possibility of a new boyfriend too much for you to handle?" The glasses wearing boy snickered, causing the rest of the class to burst into fits of giggles.

Connor rose, his shoulders shaking in anger, he could feel the rage bubbling in his stomach, and was about the launch himself at fucking Kleinman, when the teacher beat him to it.

Only Mr Greenwood didn't attack physically, he resolved the issue by sending Jared out the classroom, with the promise that he would be calling home to the fifteen year old's mother. 

Connor was practically gaping, he couldn't remember the last time a teacher, or anyone other than his mother for that matter, had defended him in an argument. 

He slowly sat back down as the lesson continued and after class he even waited outside the door for Mr Greenwood to finish reprimending Jared, just so he could thank the blond man. He also secretly wanted to see the look on Kleinman's face after the shorter boy got told off, he imagined that Mr Greenwood would scream at Jared, in the same way that other teachers did whenever Connor did something even slightly wrong.

So you could imagine his surprise when Jared exited the room with a big grin on his face, he was even waving goodbye to the English teacher as he left for Christ's sake.

Connor was fuming. Mr Greenwood was supposed to look out for him! Not Jared! Fuck!

He was about to storm away when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He flinched in the same way he did whenever someone touched him unexpectedly. Ever since that stupid party!

He spun around.

"What?" he growled.

He hadn't expected to see Mr Greenwood stood directly in front of him.

The man looked at him in a way he didn't quite recognise, there was none of the anger that he normally saw in teachers' eyes when the looked at him, nor was there by of the pity Connor was so familiar with. Instead there was something new. Kindness perhaps?

"Connor right?" the teacher asked gently.

Connor gave a slow, slightly confused, nod.

"I've got to say the essay you handed in early for homework was quite possibly the best I've ever read by someone your age."

Connor chose to ignore that the the man had commented on Connor beating the homework deadline, instead he let his anger dissipate and shot the teacher a weak smile.

"Uh thanks?" he muttered.

"If you're interested I could set you some extra texts to read?"

Connor very nearly gasped. No teacher had ever offered to go out of their way to improve his education before. Instead of letting his shock show however, he started to close himself off.

"I'm not a nerd!"

Mr Greenwood rolled his eyes.

"No you're smart," he replied, matching Connor's quick wit.

Connor grinned.

\---

Over the next few months he grew closer to My Greenwood, it was nice to let his guard down around someone, even if that person was a teacher. Connor knew it was weird to think of the older man as a a friend but, whilst their relationship was strictly a teacher student one, it felt nice to have someone he could talk to, someone who meant he wasn't so lonely all the time. He thought that maybe with the help of Mr Greenwood he would just about survive high school.

That is until everything came crashing down just after Christmas.

\---

He didn't know why exactly the nightmares started again. He hadn't had then in a few months but something must have triggered them because suddenly it felt like he was thirteen again and was waking up in the middle of the night consistently, screaming his head off.

The night terrors had first started over a year ago and unlike some people he knew _exactly_ what had caused them. So it was no surprise to him that instead of comforting him, his mother's embrace felt suffocating. He hated being held by her so much, that he would physically shove and kick her. Anything to prevent her skin from connecting with his.

But this time around he didn't know what had caused the nightmares to start up again. He didn't understand, it had been over a year since the party, why were the bad dreams suddenly back? All he knew is they had returned and were resulting in him not getting enough sleep to keep him awake and alert during the day.

Which is how he found himself falling asleep at the back off Mr Greenwood's class, one fateful Thursday afternoon.

\---

_It was dark, he could feel a body pressed against his own, pinning him against the closed door of a bedroom._

_The voice of an older boy, Martin, was echoing around the room._

_"Connor you're so fucking hot! Connor I want you! Connor I-"_

\---

"Connor?"

He could vaguely hear someone calling his name.

"Connor!"

His eyes snapped open and darted around the room as he sprung upright, panting to get some air into his lungs.

At first he assumed that he must be at home in bed but, it was slowly becoming apparent that he was not.

It began to dawn on him that he was in class, as the sounds of his fellow class mates asking questions filled his ears.

"Sir is he okay?" he heard one girl ask, he shifted his gaze, searching for the speaker but, before he could find her, someone else spoke and then someone else. All of them were asking questions and the noise was making Connor's senses fuzzy. He closed his eyes and felt himself raising his arms, he could vaguely register himself shaking them next around, but it was hard to tell over the buzzing in his head.

He thought he heard Mr Greenwood tell everyone to go to an early lunch, which was quickly confirmed by the sound of everyone's footsteps as they left the room.

He slowly placed his hands back down on the desk and carefully opened his eyes as his senses became less overwhelmed. 

The buzzing faded and he was able to register that the whole room was empty of people other than himself and Mr Greenwood, who had pulled up a chair to sit beside Connor.

"You feeling a little better?" Mr Greenwood asked in deep concern.

Connor didn't have the energy to talk and so simply nodded.

Instead of asking why Connor had been asleep in the first place, Mr Greenwood asked if Connor wanted to talk about the bad dream that he had obviously been having.

For a moment Connor was lost for words, nobody had ever asked him that before. His mom was always too just trying to smother him to death and he was pretty sure Larry didn't give a shit. As for Zoe he never gave her a chance to ask, because whenever she came into his room during the night he would scream at her to leave.

So yeah, the question was a first, perhaps that was why everything came pouring out all at once.

Connor ended up telling Mr Greenwood all about how he'd only just escaped from the older boy at the party, how he'd been drunk enough to end up alone with him in the bedroom in the first place and how before he'd escaped the older boy had his hands all over Connor, touching him in ways that Connor knew were supposed to be private.

Mr Greenwood's first question had an oddly formal sense to it. Had Connor been raped? Connor shook his head, because no. Fortunately he had managed to escape before the older boy could unbuckle Connors belt, although that wasn't to say he hadn't tried.

He thought perhaps that would be the end of the conversation. In fact he hoped it would be. He just wanted the teacher to give him a new book to read and send him on his merry way, but instead the worst thing happened.

Mr Greenwood sighed and said he would have to call Connor's parents, he said he was sorry but it was school protical. Connor screamed, sobbed and begged him not too, but the teacher had already fetched a colleague to sit with Connor whilst he made the phone call.

Of course Cynthia insisted on coming in.

So that's how Connor ended up sat in a meeting with his mom, Mr Greenwood and the Vice Principal.

Thank fuck he hadn't given Mr Greenwood any names he thought to himself, because the adults were talking about pressing charges. He didn't understand, he hadn't _properly_ been assaulted, had he?

Later that evening Cynthia sat down next to him, stroking his hair whilst he lay on his bed, trying to figure out the mess of confused thoughts floating around his head.

"Are you sure you don't remember the boy's name sweetheart?" his mom asked for what felt like the millionth time that day.

Connor lied and shook his head.

He wasn't even thinking about that right now, he'd agreed to go to some counsellor for weekly sessions at school and as far as he was concerned that was the end of the fucking matter.  

Instead he was thinking about how angry he was at Mr Greenwood.

How dare the young teacher betray his trust, how dare he turn out to be just like everyone else in Connor's life.

The next day at school Mr Greenwood tried talking to him, Connor knew the older man had seen the red lines on his arms, peeking out the end of his long sleeved top, but he suspected that the older man had elected to ignore them.

Just like how Connor was _electing_ to ignore every attempt the teacher made at conversation. 

He blatantly ignored every instruction sent his way and instead scribbled furiously all over the front cover and forst chapter of Wuthering Heights.

As far as Connor was concerned, his bond with the teacher had been destroyed forever, which was why he chose to rename 'Huck' Finn when he had to do a presentation on the book with Alana Beck later that year.

The disappointed look on Mr Greenwood's face was the same one he'd seen on every other person in his life. The look that told him nobody would notice of he just disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I actually really enjoyed writing from Connor's perspective but it's also the first time I've done it so any feedback would be really appreciated!
> 
> Summary for those who didn't read the one shot but want to know what happened:  
> \- Connor forms a close bond with his English teacher  
> \- Connor has nightmares about the events that took place at a party he attended earlier in this story  
> -He ends up telling the teacher that an older boy tried to sleep with him at the party without consent and whilst Connor was drunk  
> \- The teacher phones Cynthia and tells her what happened, causing Connor to stop trusting him
> 
> Please reach out to someone if you have experienced the same thing or anything along the lines of what Connor experiences in this chapter. Keeping it inside in the same way that he does is not the answer and can have a serious impact on your mental health. I'd also like the point out that in the story Connor had a mental illness before the party and so I'm not suggesting that the events there are what triggered it, although they no doubt would have contributed. They're also not canon and not mentioned at any point in the musical.


	9. "Mom, why did the duck cross the road?''

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twelve year old Connor gets into a fight and Cynthia searches for a 'cure'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for a description of a panic attack and references to mental illness and vomiting.

_"Mom, why did the duck cross the road?''  
"Because he wanted to prove he wasn't chicken"_

Cynthia remembered sending her twelve year old son off to school that morning and thinking that today might actually go alright. Connor and Zoe hadn't bickered for the first time in a months at breakfast and they had actually had a more than civil conversation about some YouTube video they'd both seen.

For almost two hours after dropping the pair off at school she had been hopeful. 

Hopeful that maybe the past year had been a fluke, that all the tantrums, crying and blank moods were a thing of the past.

By the time she was in the grocery store, she'd practically forgotten the way Connor would scream over the smallest things, she could actually picture him without the all too familiar bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and she was even planning a family dinner at the new Italian restaurant in town, even though the last attempt at eating out had resulted in Connor having a very public panic attack .

*Flashback*

_Back before everything started with Connor, the thought of dinner out with the Harrises would have filled Cynthia with delight._

_However, when Margery Harris had called to invite the Murphy family out for dinner, less than an hour after Connor had thrown a tantrum over his library book missing a page, her heart had filled with dread._

_The Harrises had a perfectly normal son, Scott, who played baseball and football for his school's teams. Scott, who probably didn't trash his room when he discovered that his borrowed copy of A Monster Calls was missing page 98._

_Regardless of her concerns however, she'd accepted the invitation, praying whilst doing so that Connor would be having a good day._

_The day of the meal arrived and Connor was very much not having a good day. When Cynthia had tried to get him into a tie, he'd almost had a panic attack._

_She was starting to think about cancelling but, she knew Larry wouldn't hear of it. Which is why she still found herself sat next to Connor, in a very fancy restaurant, just a few hours later._

_~A few hours later~_

_Cynthia shot a nervous glance at her son, the boy was bouncing his leg loudly and kept looking around the room anxiously. She saw Larry mouth at Connor to sit still._

_Her husband's words did nothing to calm Connor down though. By the time the waiter arrived the twelve year old had removed his blazer and seemed to be sweating._

_She knew the Harrises and those sat on the tables around them were all staring at Connor. The boy looked on the verge of a mental breakdown._

_She was just praying that nothing would send him over the edge._

_Of course fate could never be so kind._

_Halfway through the meal Connor tapped her on the shoulder._

_"I need to go home," he said urgently._

_Cynthia bit her lip and shot a nervous smile at the Harrises, who had clearly all heard Connor._

_"Just go to the bathroom and wash your face, you'll feel better after that," she said quietly, making a futile attempt to defuse the situation._

_Connor tried to take a deep breath, but found himself unable to._

_"Mom I can't breathe," he gasped, clutching at his chest._

_Cynthia wanted to cry._

_'Not now Connor please,' she thought to herself._

_But, Connor's panic attack had already begun._

_The Harrises watched in disgust as Larry and Cynthia went through the long process of trying to calm Connor down. Unfortunately, neither of them had quite worked out how to do this, which meant it was more a process of waiting for Connor to hyperventilate so much that eventually he either exhausted himself, or passed out._

_After what felt like hours, Connor slumped against the table and let out a shaky, but somewhat stable breath._

_When Cynthia finally pulled her eyes away from her son, she was able to take in what was happening around her. The entire restaurant was silently staring at her son and the only small sound was Zoe crying quietly in her chair._

_Cynthia couldn't bare it._

_Larry snapped into action, he threw some money at the Harrises, apologised for Connor and hastily hustled his family out the restaurant and into the car._

_The journey home was miserable, Connor was still shaking, Zoe hadn't stopped crying and all Cynthia wanted to do was wake up from whatever nightmare this was._

*Flashback over*

Despite how traumatising that whole experience had been, she was starting to think that maybe breakfast that morning was the begining of something, of the return of the old Connor. The boy who told terrible jokes, who hugged her at every opportunity and who played Barbies with his sister.

It didn't occur to her that perhaps it was a little unrealistic to pin so much hope on one good morning.

That is until she got the call from Connor's principle, to say he was being excluded for fighting. 

When she arrived at the school a teacher explained that Connor had hit another student, some kid called Jared, and broken the boy's glasses. The teacher seemed to imply that the violence had been unprovoked however, Cynthia wasn't so sure. She resolved to ask Connor herself.

Connor was silent for the whole ride home, despite her attempts to ask what had happened and when they arrived home he sped upstairs to his room, closing the door behind him.

Throughout the day she tried talking to him but, Connor wouldn't say a word. She finally thought he was going to open up when he came downstairs but, instead he just muttered something about wanting a drink of water, which he proceeded to get for himself.

He still hadn't given her an explanation when Larry arrived home that night. Reluctantly, she explained to her husband what had happened.

"Cynthia his behaviour is unacceptable! He needs a firm hand, just like every other boy his age!" Larry exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

The good mood he had been in when he arrived home had swiftly dissipated once Cynthia informed him about Connor's expulsion.

"He just seems so sad," Cynthia sighed, glancing at the staircase that led up to her son's room.

Larry rolled his eyes.

"Well maybe that's becsuse he doesn't have any friends! And he doesn't have any friends because nobody wants to be friends with a frea-" he hesitated, "-a kid like Connor".

"Well he had friends a year ago! He must have!" Cynthia exclaimed.

"Well that's because a year ago he wasn't acting up like this!" Larry shouted.

Cynthia winced.

"I'm not sure this is just acting up," she said quietly.

"Oh well what else would you call it?" Larry snapped.

Cynthia took a deep breath, she had been waiting to talk to Larry about this for a while now.

"Well I've been doing some research into mental illness in young people," she said cautiously.

To her surprise Larry didn't interrupt and so she continued.

"Well I looked up his symptoms, poor sleeping habits, sporadic eating patterns, mood swings and so on, and they all point towards something along the lines of depression or bipolar".

To her surprise Larry chuckled and then started to outright laugh.

She frowned.

Larry was practically wiping away tears as he tried to subdue his laughter.

"Cynthia all those things, what word did you use again? Symptoms? Those are just things that happen to boys Connor's age," he said reassuringly, standing up from his seat at the kitchen table and placing a hand on her arm.

Ordinarily Cynthia would have backed down, but in this case she felt her son was more important than upsetting Larry.

"I want him to see a Doctor," she said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Larry sighed.

"Cynthia, I'm sorry but I think we should try and handle the situation ourselves first," he explained, his voice tired.

"This _situation_ has been going on for almost a year now Larry!" she cried.

"Cynthia I am not going to entertain this any longer! Last month he was bulimic because he threw up after dinner, the month before that he has a brain tumour because he had a few headaches! You just jump from one ludicrous fantasy to another!"

Cynthia looked down at her feet and sniffled.

Larry let out a deep sigh.

"Look honey how about you look up a smoothie recipe that helps release endorphins in the brain or something," he suggested.

Whilst some might have found his words patronising, Cynthia smiled, she'd always been a firm believer in natural remedies.

As it transpired it was fairly easy for her to find a smoothie recipe that supposedly cured depression.

She also discovered that going outside apparently helped people who were feeling exceptionally low and so slowly but surely, a plan began to form in her mind.

~~~

"We're all going on a hike!" she announced the next morning at breakfast.

"I have school today though?" Zoe replied in confusion.

Cynthia's broad smile faltered. In all her haste to plan something out for Connor, she'd practically forgotten that Zoe still had to attend school for the rest of the week.

"Okay well Connor, you, your father and I are all going on a hike!" Cynthia beamed.

"But I'm tired," he yawned.

Zoe rolled her eyes. "Well that's because you were up all night," she teased.

Whilst her tone wasn't unkind, Cynthia still turned to glare at her daughter.

"Don't make fun of your brother!" she snapped.

Zoe looked at her mother for a moment, before slowly standing up.

"Can I still have a ride to school?" she asked blankly.

Cynthia glanced at her watch.

"Well you could catch the bus if you hurry," she said quickly, distracted by Connor stabbing at his eggs.

Zoe, noticing the lack of attention that her mother was giving her, scowled. She muttered something about seeing everyone later and stomped off to get her school bag.

Meanwhile Cynthia was still watching Connor play with his food.

"Aren't you hungry?" she asked almost nervously.

Connor shook his head.

"You'll want your strength for the hike sweetheart!" she insisted.

Connor glanced up at her.

"My stomach hurts," he said quietly.

"Well some exercise will do you good!" Cynthia smiled, ignoring the sound of Zoe slamming the front door on her way out.

Connor groaned, but nothing could dampen Cynthia's mood. Nothing at all.

~~~

A few hours later though, her positive attitude had vanished. Something about holding your son's hair back, whilst he vomited into a bush, apparently had that effect. 

She wasn't sure whether Connor had been telling the truth about his stomachache or whether there was something wrong with the 'depression curing' smoothie she had made him drink when they stopped for a break.

Either way the puking had put an end to the hike and her good mood. 

On the way home from the park she sat in the back with Connor's head resting in her lap. The twelve year old was fast asleep.

As she ran her fingers through his sweaty hair she couldn't help but feel like a failure. What sort of mom made their kid go on a hike when he wasn't feeling well? Or poisoned them with a weird smoothie?

When they arrived home Larry carried a still half sleeping Connor up to bed.

It was hours before Cynthia checked up on Connor, she expected him to be asleep when she entered his room that night, but instead he was propped up against his pillows reading a book.

"What's that?" Cynthia asked gently.

"The perks of being a wallflower," Connor replied quietly.

Cynthia sat down on the edge of her son's bed. She decide to ask the question that had been on her mind since yesterday. 

"Connor why did you hit Jared?"

The twelve year old sighed.

"Mum why did the duck cross the road?" he asked.

She looked at him blankly.

"Because he wanted to prove he wasn't chicken".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this line is really meant to be a happy one but I can and will make literally anything angsty!
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this one shot because honestly I'm not sure about it...


	10. "But there were moments"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor channels his inner Wilfred Owen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor trigger warning for very brief mentions of suicidal thoughts.

_But there were moments_

Connor wasn't normally one for completing homework. In fact most of the time he made a conscious effort to avoid it entirely.

But, there was something about writing a war poem that appealed to him, the idea of someone fighting a battle, albeit a different type of one to Connor's, resonated with the sixteen year old.

So it was with an enthusiasm that he hadn't felt in years, that Connor hurried home from school that day. 

He was in such a good mood that he even muttered a hello to his mom, before slamming the door in his usual fashion.

_This'll be easy he thought to himself._

Less than an hour later he had something, it hadn't gone quite as he imagined it would, but, once he had started writing the words seemed to pour out of him like a waterfall.

He stared at the paper in front of him, the soldier who felt confusion about what he was fighting for, reminded the sixteen year old a little too much of himself.

He found himself emotionally exhausted as he leant back in his chair and away from the desk. But, it wasn't the type of tiredness he felt when he was in the middle of a depressive episode, nor was it the sleepy feeling he got when coming down from a high.

This was the type of emotional exhaustion that made you feel full and empty simultaneously. The type that left you feeling like you'd let everything out but, at the same time gained a new understanding of yourself.

He heard his mom call him down for dinner and with a final glance at the lined paper in front of him, he walked downstairs.

\---

Later that evening he had practically forgotten about the poem, thoughts of an argument, that had taken place over dinner, had replaced it in his mind. 

He wasn't even certain how the quarrel had begun and it had already begun to merge with all the others.

The type of draining exhaustion had returned, all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and let the rest of the world fade away for just a second. To escape the scary world that was his own mind.

He lay down on his mattress, closing his eyes as he attempted to block out the sound of his parents screaming at each other about therapy. 

\---

At some point he must have fallen asleep because he woke up the next morning in his now crumpled clothes from the day before. The clock on his wall told him he was behind schedule.

He yanked a fresh grey sweater from his wardrobe, he was pretty sure it was the one that didn't really fit him right and itched too much, but he knew his mother liked it and so every now and then he would make the effort to wear it.

He pulled it over his head, dug out another pair of black skinny jeans and made his way into the bathroom to brush his teeth. One glance in the mirror told him he would lose any battle he attempted to have with his hair that morning and so he opted to just pull the top half of it into a messy bun, letting the rest of his curls hang loose.

Once he was somewhat presentable he grabbed his bag and jacket and was about to leave when something caught his eye. He snatched the poem from his desk and stuffed it into the bottom of his messenger bag, before hurrying out.

Later, when he handed his poem in, the teacher sighed at it's crumpled state, but, reluctantly accepted it nonetheless. Connor just rolled his eyes and went back to doodling on the surface of his desk, as the teacher went back to droning on about Wordsworth.

\---

A week went by and Connor had all but forgotten about the poem, so when the teacher started handing out some pieces of homework she'd marked, he was unsurprised to find nothing placed on his desk.

He shrugged it off, thinking it must have been one of the many assignments he'd failed to complete.

When Miss Samplen started to talk about one piece of worl that had particularly moved her, his eyes flickered over to Alana Beck. The fifteen year old's work was always exemplified in class. The girl was wearing a smug smile, clearly he wasn't the only one aware of who the teacher was most likely talking about.

When he heard his name called he figured he had been caught staring, he turned around, preparing to be berated for what had probably been interpreted as glaring.

"What?" he asked warily.

"I asked if you would mind reading your poem aloud for us Mr Murphy?"

Connor did a double take. Surely she had to be mistaken.

"M-me?" he stuttered.

He heard Jared Kleinman snigger and whipped around to flip him off.

He heard the teacher sigh.

"Mr Murphy are you going to read it or not?" she asked in exasperation.

Ordinarily, Connor preferred not to actively engage in school. But, he figured the teacher might give him a detention for swearing at Jared if he said no, so he reluctantly shuffled to the front of the class.

Ms Samplan smiled at him and handed him his poem. He gave her an awkward, blatantly forced smile in return, before turning around to face his fellow students.

"Um so it's kinda called The wind moves with more certainty than I," he mumbled.

"Speak up Connor," Ms Samplan called out loudly.

Connor took a deep breath, before reading the poem out. Whilst he was speaking at a pretty fast pace, his voice was clear and loud. 

"The wind moves with more certainty than I,  
Creeping in no particular direction  
And yet still with more understanding  
Of where it is headed 

The cold kills with less qualms than I,  
Stabbing at anyone in their wake  
Ending lives without looking  
At the faces of men 

The leaves fall with more preparation than I,  
Drifting to the floor  
With acceptance of an ending  
That was God’s plan 

The poppies grow with more hope than I,  
Breaking away from the battlefield  
With no recollection  
Of what came before"

When he was done he stared at the paper for a good minute, the room was silent. He figured that everyone was probably whispering about how awful his poem was. He felt the anger bubbling inside him, how dare Ms Samplen humiliate him like this! Forcing him to read out his shitty poem to everyone.

When he finally dared to look up he was surprised. Nobody was talking to each other, instead they were all looking at him in shock.

He coughed, desperate to relieve the tension in the room. 

Slowly, a girl at the back of the room started to clap, nobody joined in and she stopped after less than ten seconds.

Connor didn't wait around for much longer after that. He grabbed his bag and made a bee line for the door.

Once he was outside the school building he slowed down, he took a seat on the steps outside the entrance and looked out at the busy road. He could just walk into it, right now and nobody would see. He was actully considering it, when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. 

He looked around, expecting it to be a teacher, telling him to go back to class. But instead it was the clapping girl from his English class. 

He stood up slowly, discovering that he towered over her. 

"Uh what's up?" he asked.

Instead of replying verbally, the girl wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.

Connor almost pulled away on instinct but, his muscle memory from years ago got the better of him and he found himself reciprocating the hug.

Eventually it was the short girl who pulled away.

"That poem meant everything to me, thank you," she said quietly, before turning around and hurrying away.

Connor would never know how his poem had supposedly touched the strange girl. 

However, a year later when he found himself at the brink of despair, desperately wanting to end it all, there was one positive thought that crossed his mind. It was that maybe, even though he hadn't done anything massive, maybe he'd done one small remarkable thing, for one little person. Maybe that had been _his_ moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically I had to wrote a WW1 poem for English Lit and I started to think about Connor Murphy doing the same thing (as you do!) 
> 
> It's essentially my attempt at writing both fluff and poetry...
> 
> Anyway hope you enjoyed it!


	11. "Something had switched off the light"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cynthia knew it was wrong, and yet a part of her loved when Connor was sick. It was like whatever it was that blocked out the light inside him faded away, revealing a glimpse of who he was before.

_Something had switched off the light  
And it seemed like it never quite came back on_

The first time Connor came down with pneumonia, he was six. Zoe had caught a cold of a girl at school and come home with a headache. Despite Cynthia's instructions to stay away from his sister, Connor had insisted upon cuddling up next to her in bed and watching disney movies. So it had been no surprise when he too woke up the next day with a stuffy nose and sore throat. She had nursed them both together, running between their separate rooms with orange juice and tissues. 

However, whilst Zoe's illness seemed to have faded away after a couple of days, Connor's health continued to deteriorate, he had a nasty cough and refused to eat anything. Whilst some parents might be concerned by their child's prolonged illness, Cynthia was not. Connor had always been prone to sickness, if Zoe had a simple stomachache, Connor would be vomiting for days, if she had a headache, he had a migraine and so whilst Zoe had only really had a cold, in was no surprise that Connor's had developed into some sort of flu. Or at least that's what she presumed it was.

*Flashback*

_Connor had woken up that morning with a fever, his skin was hot and yet he was shivering under a huge bundle of blankets, realistically, Cynthia knew she should be trying to cool him down, but, it broke her heart to see him shaking from the cold whenever she attempted to take a layer away. So she caved in and dosed him up on medicine instead._

_She kept waiting for his temperature to spike and break however, all it seemed to do was rise. His cough also appeared to be getting worse, and he had barely eaten for five days. By the time Larry got home from work she was worried, the medicine she was giving him didn't seem to be doing anything, and Connor had little to no energy._

_"Do you want some dinner sweetheart?" she asked gently, kneeling down next to her son, who was curled up on the couch, watching Aladdin._

_Connor shook his head slowly and Cynthia sighed, she really needed to get some nutrients into him._

_"Please just come and sit at the table and see if you can-" she started, but her voice was cut off by Connor starting to cough._

_After two minutes of dry coughing, the boy leant back into the couch and closed his eyes._

_"I'm tired," he whispered._

_"Okay sweetheart," Cynthia muttered, leaning forward and running a hand through his sweaty hair._

_After dinner, Larry insisted that she take a break, he said he would take care of Connor. Despite her initial concerns, it turned out an evening away from her son was actually quite refreshing, she had a shower, read to Zoe and then went to bed. As she laid her head down on the pillow she was hopeful that Connor would wake up the next day with a broken fever and no cough. She was of course, very much mistaken._

_A few hours later Cynthia's sleep was disturbed by a strangled cry. She leapt out of bed, Larry just behind her and raced towards Connor's room, where the noise appeared to be coming from. His shout had obviously woken Zoe too, because she was already inside the room, staring at her brother in horror._

_Connor was clutching his chest and gasping for air. His breathing was rapid and shallow; he was red in the face._

_"C-can't breathe," he gasped._

_Then he started to cough, but this time the coughing wasn't dry, it was wet and didn't seem to be stopping. Larry started to hit Connor on the back, like you would with someone who was choking._

_Cynthia watched in horror as Connor spat out some mucas, that was tinged with a red, coppery substance._

_"Cyn, don't just stand there, call an ambulance!" Larry snapped._

_Cynthia obliged._

*End of flashback.*

The paramedics had arrived quickly, and proceeded to put an oxygen mask over Connor's face. At the hospital the doctors had explained that Connor's cold had developed into pneumonia, which had caused swelling of the tissue in the lungs. 

Cynthia cried as she held Connor's hand that night, he looked so tiny in the hospital bed, attached to all those different machines and drips. The doctors had decided that because he was so young, they would keep him on the ward for a few days, before sending him home with antibiotics.

\---

The second time Connor got pneumonia he was sixteen and caught it from staying out all night in a park during winter. Like the last time it had started out as a cough.

*Flashback*

_Cynthia winced as Connor coughed again._

_They were currently staying at a family friend's house in the country for the weekend. It was the day they had arrived, the two families were currently eating dinner and yet her son had barely touched his spaghetti, instead he was slumped in his chair and kept coughing into his hand. She leant across the table for a jug of water and winced as her arm brushed against his, his skin felt like it was on fire._

_'I shouldn't have made him come,' she thought to herself, ordinarily she wouldn't have, but the Millards were friends of Larry's and her husband had been adamant that Connor attend._

_Speaking of Connor, he was rubbing his chest now and the grimace on his face told her that he was in pain. When he was six the doctors had warned her that his lungs might have been weakened by his illness and that he would be more susceptible to catching pneumonia again in the future. The fact he had started smoking pot just over a year ago probably didn't help either._

_Cynthia knew he hadn't been quite right when he'd woken up that morning. For starters he hadn't put up an argument about attending the weekend getaway, something he usually would have actively tried to get out of. He had been looking a little peaky ever since he spent the night sat in a freezing park, in just a denim jacket, taking god knows what drugs with god knows who, but that morning he had looked particularly unwell. Nonetheless she had bustled him into the back of the car, handed him some cough sweets and told him to sleep on the journey. A small guilty part of her had almost relieved that he was sick, it meant he wouldn't have the energy to cause a scene, also he wasn't so distant when he was sick, it was like a small part of who he was five years ago reamerged and allowed her to take care of him._

_She was pulled from her thoughts by Connor muttering something about asking to be excused._

_"Of course dear, are you feeling quite alright, you look awfully pale?" Mrs Millard said with concern._

_Zoe scoffed, Cynthia knew she probably wanted to say something about how Connor was basically a vampire and so was always pale._

_Connor looked like he was about to answer, but instead he started to cough. At first it sounded pretty dry, but then he put his hand over his mouth and gagged as he spat out some sort of mucas. He blushed, before hastily exiting the room._

_Larry glanced nervously at Cynthia and she knew that he too was remembering how the last time Connor had coughed like that they had ended up calling an ambulance._

_"I'll just go and check on him," Cynthia said with a tight smile, she forced herself to walk slowly until she was out of the dining room, at which point she practically sprinted to the room Connor was staying in._

_She found her son curled up on his bed, his arms wrapped around his ribs, as he leant against the wall. His eyes were closed. From her spot across the room she could hear that his breathing was shallow._

_"Connor darling are you okay?"_

_The teenager let out a shaky breath and shook his head slowly, confirming what Cynthia already knew, that he was very much not okay._

_"My chest," he wheezed._

_"D-do you want to go to the hospital?" she asked stupidly._

_Connor may not be able to give an audible response, but the disbelieving, sarcastic look he shot her was enough to tell her how ridiculous her question had been._

_She grabbed a jumper and helped him to pull it over his head, she also picked up a hair band and gently pulled his hair back into a bun, savouring the feeling of him allowing her to comfort him._

_Knowing that Connor was probably too weak to walk independently down the stairs, and that she was by no means strong enough to support him, she hurried back to the dining room to fetch Larry._

_For a moment she lingered, observing the scene from the doorway. The tense atmosphere that seemed to follow Connor around like a sheep had faded away, Zoe was smiling and laughing, as her father told some sports joke. Cynthia opened her mouth, aware that she was about the destroy the happy feeling._

_"Connor needs to go to the hospital Larry, he's sick," she said, almost bluntly, but with enough lightness in her voice that she didn't cone across as impolite._

_Larry sighed._

_"Are you su-"_

_She cut him off firmly._

_"Yes!"_

*End of flashback.*

That was how Cynthia found herself sat next to Connor lying in a hospital bed yet again, watching him be treated for the same illness he'd contracted as a young child. It sounded strange but the days she spent with him the hospital were some of the best she could remember. The illness seemed to quell some of the anger in his eyes, and he was almost the same person he was when he was eleven. He smiled, made some very dry jokes and even let her to help take care of him.

Stupidly, she allowed herself to believe that maybe Connor would stay happy, that maybe the last five years hadn't really happened.

However, a few days after returning home, she came home to find him banging on the wall separating his and Zoe's rooms. His eyes were red, either from weed or crying, she couldn't be sure. He was screaming at Zoe about something or other, it didn't really matter.

All she registered was that it was back, whatever it was that made Connor so angry and sad, had returned.The light that had returned so briefly, had yet again been switched firmly off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I've been a little stuck for ideas lately, school has a been a bit hectic and every time I sit down to write I get halfway through a one shot and then can't think of where to take it. Also I'm running out of lyrics, so that is a bit of a problem. I'm thinking of either reusing some or branching out into other deleted songs. What do you guys think? If you have any requests/ideas for stories, let me know in the comments!
> 
> ALSO I'm starting to write/plan a treebros fic, it's an au where Connor is a model and Evan is a florist. I don't ship them in the musical itself, but I do love Connor lives aus and I ship them in those fanfics, especially slow burn ones where Connor has lots of recovery time beforehand. Is that just me? Would anyone be interested in this idea for a story? Let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, please leave any feedback in the comments and kudos are always very much appreciated!


End file.
